My Neverland
by Singer of the Soul
Summary: It all started with a dream, the night before I flew to London to meet my grandmother. I learned that my family history was to strange to believe, maybe even magical. And it was not too long until I was kidnapped to a place I would only see in my dreams, Neverland. Where I'm mistaken for Wendy, and taken on an adventure, to save Neverland, and Peter, from a terrible curse.
1. That Dream, Again

I felt like I was asleep. The cloud under my head was soft and fluffy, sending "lovely" thoughts to my head. I was floating on air, in my bed, while my music box sang a beautiful song. Thick, luscious blankets, kept me toasty warm. And my bay window, whispered a cool breeze on my skin. Perfect. I had to be asleep, but I wasn't. I felt like I was in heaven, but my mind wouldn't shut off. I kept on hearing a man's voice, yelling at me to " grow up", but was he. I guessed it was my father, who else would it be? But no one was yelling, or keeping me awake, so I tried to fall asleep. Everything was silent and perfect, only my music box made its sweet song, whizzing threw the air, until...…

I heard a sniffle, then another, then another, and then I heard a soft whimper. Was I hearing things? I slowly fluttered open my eyes to see what it was, and I slowly started to sit up, it felt like it took every muscle in my body to do so. I turned my head to see a small figure in the bay window, back facing me. Somehow, I recognized him, it was he, the chocolate brown, shaggy haired, dirty feet, and CRYING boy. I slowly closed my music box, shutting it off, and looked to see if he noticed. No, he just kept whimpering

"Hey, boy", I whispered, he whipped his head around, "what are crying for?" He immediately stood up.

"I was not!", he claimed, folding his arms across his chest, he had a cute accent, Autrailian maybe? He was embarrassed, I could tell, but he just stared at me, angrily.

"Yes you were", I protested, " don't deny it, I saw you!", he seemed startled that I talked back to him

"Answer, me. Why were crying? And what the heck are doing in my room?!",he just looked at his feet.

"I…I…" his expression softened, " I just wanted to know how the story ended",what story, what in the world is he talking about?

"What story?"

"Um...the one with the girl in rags, with the mean sisters,...oh, and the fairy grandmother, and the prince with a ball, and.…and the slipper. Do you know that one?" He asked hopefully. That is why he was crying, because this twelve or thirteen year old boy didn't know the end of Cinderella, a fairy tale?

"Uh, yeah, sure I know the end." His face just lit up.

"Can you tell me what happens next?" He was practically begging, "Please?" His brown eyes just stared at me filled with hope.

"Um, okay", he immediately jumped on the end of my bed and sat crossed legged, staring at me waiting for me to tell the story.

"Well…when Cinderella left the ball", I began, " at the stroke of midnight, because she knew that the spell would break at…"

"What spell? The one the fairy grandmother gave her?", he interrupted, which kind of bothered me.

" Fairy GODMOTHER, and yes. She told Cinderella that she had to leave the ball because her magic wouldn't ' last and…"

"What's that?," he interrupted, again.

"What?"

" A ball, is that like a bouncy ball, and what's a godmother, some kind of witch?"

"No! A ball is a dance or party for royalty, like kings and queens. And a godmother, is your mother's best friend!"

"I don't have a godmother OR a mother", he said, quiet hyper, "keep going." He's an orphan, that's terrible, he's all alone, maybe a little more wouldn't hurt, if mom doesn't wake up.

"Um…okay…well, Cinderlla left her glass slipp- shoe, on the step of the palace. And the prince fell in love with her, so he vowed that whoever fit in the shoe, he would marry."

" But what if someone else had the same shoe size?"

"She had the smallest feet in the village, OKAY!"', I screeched, "Now, no more interrupting." He nodded.

"Anyway, when the prince found the STEPSISTERS' house, they both tried on the shoe, but they wouldn't fit the shoe. When the prince asked if there was anyone else, they said no, hoping he wouldn't see Cinderella."

"Those brats! Those selfish, nasty brats!"

"I know, but Cinderella saw the prince and asked if she could try the slipper, against her sisters wishes. And the prince saw that the slipper, I mean shoe, fit Cinderella and said he was to marry her, while the fairy godmother turned the stepsisters into rabbits, but only until midnight." Silence.

"And…?"

"AND, they all lived happily ever after, I guess, why?" A smile grew across his face, then he hit his head on the ceiling. The ceiling? I screamed, how'd he get up there, he flew, but who WAS he?

"Who are you, and how did you do that?" He slowly landed on the end of my bed, hands balled into fists, rested at his side, and a huge smile on his face.

" I'm Peter, Peter Pan!"

" Moira, wake up, I'm not going to ask you again", yelled Mom, I woke up, "you're going to miss your flight!"

It was just that dream, again!


	2. Grandma Wendy

He was gone, Peter Pan was gone. I should have realized that it was dream, I mean come on, Peter Pan, a fairytale character, in my room! Wait a minute, I wasn't in my room ( in the dream I mean' when I woke up, I was in my real room) I'm going crazy...

"MOIRA! I mean it, if you don't come down now, I'll cancel the trip!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming, jeez! Can't a girl get some sleep!", I didn't actually say that, just thought it. Mom is very strict about waking up and falling asleep, don't ask why. Once, I was was late coming home from improvisation class, and I slept in the next morning, which was Saturday. And when the clock turned to 10 am, Mom din't let me watch tv for the rest of the day. She said if I was so tired, I didn't need to watch tv. Also she didn't let me talk to my friends. But today, she wasn't going to get in my way, to gay I was going to London! Grandma has lived there in the same house for like sixty years! I love my grandmother, she always loved to travel and try new things, AND she told the most amazing stories. I'm kind of a sucker for fantasy books, and she is the only person in the family who understands that. When I was little, she used to tell me that mermaids and fairies were real, and I believed her, I was only five, or six, or seven. But, hey, she had the stories to prove it, until my mom broke the ice, and told me to grow up. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but she never liked Grandma telling me 'lies" about the world.

Grandma would bring me gifts from around the world, as well. I practically get a souvenir every birthday, and I now collect things from all over the world. Jewelry, books, crafts, paintings, etc, are literally all over my room. And my fifteenth birthday is in two day and Mom was sending to London for the first time, on a plane, all by myself, to meet Grandma, best gift in the world. London is an amazing place, at least that's what Grandma says, well she lived their her whole life. I was so excited, except for the plane part.

Being in the air, just scares me. Just the idea that the plane will just fall, and explode, with me in it, and no way out. I know it sounds crazy, but I've been afraid of planes since Ga- I mean my friend showed me a video of a plane crash. But seeing Grandmas was an exception. Plus, she said she had a new gift and story to tell me when I get to London about one of her favorite childhood stories.

So, I immediately got dressed, checked my bags once or twice, and dragged them down our stairs, hitting my heals on every step. When I got downstairs, Mom was making "breakfast", aka a glass of milk an a bowl of Cheerios. Her nurse outfit was in and she had her auburn hair in a bun, but her bangs were still in the way. She kept asking me if she could help me get my bags downstairs, but I kept saying no, because she was volunteering and the hospital today, and I didn't want her to be late. But she wanting to stay until I left. When I FINALLY sat at the table, she placed the cereal on the table and sat across from me, then started her morning routine of questions.

"You hungry?"

"Sure." Did I have to ask, she would have made me eat it anyway.

"Are you awake yet?"

"Yeah", she woke me up.

"Do you want milk on your cereal?"

"Okay.", it will taste bland either way.

"Are you ready for the plane ride, do you want to take motionsickness pills?"

"I am", please stop asking me that! She ask me that every day since Grandma invited me.

"What was the dream tonight?" Yes, that is an everyday question.

"Nothing", she just stared, she could see right through me.

"Moira", she spoke calmly," you were screaming last night. Now, was their something, or SOMEONE weird in your room, or was was it a dream?"

"Oh, yeah Mom, there was a strange person in my room", I said sarcastically," you know who it was? Peter Pan!" I could tell that she was angry at me for saying someone was in her house, but she connected the dots.

"Again?" I nodded.

"Mom, should I see a therapist or something? This seems to be getting…"

"No!", she yelped, kind of startling me.

"Why?" She stared at the ceiling, the made eye contact with me.

"Because…" she started, " I had dream weird dreams when I was your age, and Grandma Wendy…"

"Don't you bring her into this", I interrupted,"you always blame her!" Good morning argument! It was true, and I an suck and tired of it. Whenever we talk about something going on in my personal life, Mom always talks about herself as a teenager, and how grandma Wendy made it worse!

"You didn't let finish," she continued, "when I had the dreams, I wanted to see a therapist, but Grandma Wendy said it was a bad idea, so I went to the school counselor," wow, Miss Perfect went against her mother's wishes.

"Anyway, they couldn't find out what caused the dreams, except…" here it comes, " Grandma Wendy's fairytales." There it was.

"I can't believe you!" I started to stand up, but she stopped me from leaving.

"Wait, let me finish telling you something, for once!" Oh great she wasn't finished, I started walking.

"MOIRA WENDY KEVINS, SIT DOWN!", she started to yell, I turned my head, "if you don't you can't use my car to take to the airport.", she already took my phone, so I couldn't call a friend to drive me, so I sat back down.

"Okay, good your going to behave," jeez Mom I'm almost fifteen," I just don't want some professional to tell you that that's the cause of the dreams."

"Then I won't tell them about Grandma, ther could always be something else. And besides she never, ever told me stories about Neverland, or Peter…whatever his name is!" Now I'm angry.

"Then they won't find anything, sweetheart, trust me.", she pleaded, "and that's not true. There's nothing wrong with you. And, yes, she did tell you stories about Peter PAN, when you were little." She started to fiddle with my hands, avoiding my gaze, waiting for me to calm down. But now, she's correcting me about Peter Pan , seriously! She probably has never read the book, or like it for that matter, too much fantasy! And I don't remember Grandma telling me any stories about Neverland, and I remember all of her stories, I think.

Now that we were talking about my dreams, again, something else came to mind. I was a tad curious about who was yellin at me in the dream, and suspected it was Daddy.

"Mom," I spoke calmly, she looked up at me, " there's something else that happened in the dream. I know it sounds crazy, but I thought Daddy was yelling at me."

She looked at me as if I had horns growing out of my head, I knew she hated me even mentioning Daddy (which is what I thought I would call him, if I ever met him). I never knew who my father was, and sometimes, neither did Mom, it seemed.

After a moment of silence, she finally said something, "Well, you see sweetie, your father left me before I even knew I was having you." Her expression stayed ice cold. Then she changed the subject.

"Oh my, look at the time," she pretended to look at a wristwatch, " you're going to miss your flight, we better get going," a small, fake smile grew on her face.

"Okay," I whispered," let's get it over with."


End file.
